


Our First Words

by KangHoo



Series: Letters From Me To You [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hakoda (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Iroh (Avatar) loves Tea, Language Barrier, Other, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Parental Hakoda (Avatar), Protective Iroh (Avatar), Protective Katara (Avatar), Protective Sokka (Avatar), Protective Zuko (Avatar), Stubborn Katara (Avatar), Ursa (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:53:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27146212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KangHoo/pseuds/KangHoo
Summary: In the midst of the Hundred Year War, tensions rose between the four nations. In two of those nations, a delicate bond bloomed. It started when they were young, where fire scarred and water only came to the blessed. Two boys wrote secret letters to each other for nearly eight years. All they could hope for was the secrecy the letters brought.OR -- Zuko just wanted a friend. Sokka just wanted to know why a Fire Nation messenger hawk was stranded in the middle of the snow.*****Notice: Currently on a hiatus!! Will be back March 2021 <3
Relationships: Azula & Mai & Ty Lee, Iroh & Lu Ten, Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Lu Ten & Zuko, Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Letters From Me To You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981525
Comments: 151
Kudos: 258





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I should warn!! English is not my first language, and I am still a bit shaky when it comes to speaking it. This story has uses of Old English, which I am using via translator. If, by any chance, you know how to speak or write in Old English and notice that I made a mistake, please point it out!! Same thing goes for regular English, since I know that there may be errors somewhere as I write. I'll do my best to correct what I messed up on!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Zuko was five, he asked his uncle if he could sent a letter. When Sokka was five, he found a messenger hawk shivering in the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: n/a

Zuko was five-years-old when his mother told him to start making new friends. He sat in his palace room, looking out his bedroom window. He saw his sister tossing stones at the turtleducks in the pond, and her friends trying to stop her.

Azula always made friends. She was always loved.

It wasn't long before he realized that his friends were already Azula's friends, and they only hung out with him because they felt bad.

Not to mention Lu Ten was his cousin.

And his uncle and his mother were, well... his uncle and his mother.

_Technically, Zuko didn't have any friends._

As he looked out into the palace garden, watching his sister and her friends, his mother came into his room. She sat by him, watching her daughter and her friends play. Ursa worried for her son.

"You should go play with them," she encouraged. 

Zuko shook his head. "They won't let me play."

"Why not? Should I talk to them for you?"

"No..." The boy sighed. "...I always ruin the games. I always lose."

_And Azula always wins, but that was left unsaid._

"Well," Ursa thought, still trying to be encouraging, "Why don't you make new friends?"

The five-year-old didn't reply, but he pondered. As his mother sat with him, looking out the window, Zuko wondered who he could be friends with. The rest of the palace only consisted of guards and servants. The royal advisors were far too old, as well as his royal tutors and instructors. The only kids his age only ever talked to Azula. He sat in silence, thinking about who he could become friends with.

His mother eventually left him, telling him that she had business to attend to. He let her leave, not once asking if he could tag along.

Ursa worried for her son. He usually clung to her when she left.

But maybe he needed time alone, so she left without a word.

Zuko stared out the window, watching as Azula and her friends eventually walked away from the turtleduck pond--out of the garden and into the palace. Perhaps they were tired of playing; perhaps they noticed that Zuko was peering down at them longingly. As the evening sun started to appear, Zuko wondered just how long he had been sitting.

Maybe he should have followed his mother. Perhaps he would have found a friend there.

As he contemplated, he caught a movement in the corner of his eye. He followed what he saw, realizing it was a messenger hawk.

It would most likely be addressed to either his grandfather, his father, his uncle, or his cousin. He watched as the bird flew into the open window of the royal scribe's chambers, who intercepted the letter attached to the hawk. Zuko knew that the hawk was trained to go to the scribe; only the scribe could read the letters before presenting the information to the Fire Lord.

He wondered what the message would be about.

Wouldn't it be fun to send one out himself? Perhaps to a potential friend. Would he be able to make a friend outside of the palace walls?

Surely, it was an interesting idea. But Zuko was sure he would get in trouble for it. He would have to ask his grandfather before doing so; nothing got into and out of the palace without the Fire Lord's knowledge. 

_...Unless._

*********

Zuko caught his uncle in the middle of a Pai Sho match. The general was playing with his son, who was desperately trying to win. But alas...

"Father!" Lu Ten groaned helplessly. "You can't just keep winning!"

"On the contrary, my son," Iroh laughed. "One can only win what they are destined to never lose."

"You're calling me a loser, father dearest."

"Perhaps. You may never know." Iroh let out another laugh as he made his next move. Spotting moment near him, he turned his head to his side--his eyes landing on his nephew. "Prince Zuko? Come! Join us for some Pai Sho!"

"Zuko, come here!" Lu Ten waved his little cousin over. "Help me win!"

"I don't know how to play," Zuko dismissed, but couldn't stop his cousin from getting up and carrying him to where he was sitting.

The five-year-old watched as his uncle and his cousin played match upon match. He sat comfortably in Lu Ten's lap, listening to the older boy as he explained what each tile represented. It didn't make much sense for the young prince, but he was happy enough to spend time with his relatives.

Eventually, both uncle and cousin tired out. The evening sun had gone down, and the moon had just started painting the sky black. Lu Ten picked Zuko off of his lap and stood him up, standing up alongside the younger boy.

"The game was interesting, Father," Lu Ten sighed, dusting himself off. "But I must head inside."

"I believe we are all in need of rest," Iroh agreed, standing up himself. "Prince Zuko, come with me. I'll escort you back to your mother."

Zuko stood by his uncle, watching as his cousin left to go inside the palace. The darkness of the garden was slowly getting to him, but he waited for his uncle patiently. He watched as the general called servants over, instructing them to clean up the board and tiles. It wasn't long before the man took his hand in his and walked him back to the palace.

"Uncle Iroh," Zuko asked, right as they were headed back to his palace room. "May I borrow your messenger hawk?"

"What do you need my messenger hawk for, nephew?" Iroh looked at the young boy, slightly amused. 

"I want to make a friend."

"...With the hawk?"

"No," Zuko paused and thought a bit before answering, "With a letter. I want to make a friend by writing them a letter."

Iroh thought about the request. He knew his father didn't allow for any communication to be made outside of the palace walls without a good reason. Iroh was the Crown Prince of the throne; he was given his own hawk with trust. 

Iroh knew not to get in the way of the Fire Lord's orders.

But what harm could a child do?

As the two approached Zuko's room, knowing Ursa would be waiting for her son there, Iroh looked at his nephew and promised him that he could use the hawk. The look on the young boy's face spoke volumes, and Iroh knew that he made the right decision.

After all, what was better than a child's happiness?

Surely, Iroh knew how to keep a secret here and there.

*********

That night, when most of the palace royals were already in bed, Iroh asked Ursa if he could speak to his nephew in private. Though the woman was skeptical of why, she trusted the man. Zuko eagerly followed his uncle to his private chambers, bouncing as they walked hand-in-hand. As soon as the two got to Iroh's room, the man shut the door and pointed to his hawk.

"Would you like to write a letter now?" Iroh asked, smiling at his nephew when the boy nodded.

The two sat at Iroh's desk, drafting a letter. The man wrote for his nephew, who was too busy thinking of what to say. They made sure to use a fake name in the letter, agreeing that the identity of the prince should be kept a secret. Even though Zuko felt guilty (he didn't want to lie to a potential friend), he eventually came to.

The general knew that the words he wrote on the letter were far too advanced for what a five-year-old would say, but he didn't want his nephew to be friends with a mere stranger. He knew the dangers of communicating with the outside world. He knew the other nations wouldn't take too kindly reading a letter written by the ones winning a war. People may write back threats and curses--things no five-year-old should read or hear.

But considerably, he could intercept the letter if it got too bad, or write to his nephew himself in secret.

_Not that Zuko had to know._

When the letter was finished, Iroh rolled it up and put it into his messenger hawk's carrier. He sent the hawk out through a window, silently instructing it to fly around until it got tired. As the uncle and nephew duo watched the hawk soar away, differing thoughts filled their minds.

Iroh knew for a fact that no wise man would respond. They would think it was a joke. A Fire Nation hawk delivering a message of friendship would have been some twisted sense of evil. The general knew that the war was destructive; he knew that the Fire Nation wasn't being held in the best thoughts.

In truth, he mourned for his hawk. It would be killed on spot once the message was encrypted. He only prayed that the bird's death was painless.

On the other hand, Zuko stared out into the dark sky in hope.

Who knew what would happen? Perhaps he would finally make a friend.

*********

_Greetings, dear friend!_

_Mine own given name is Lee, and I am looking for a friend. Shouldst thou be interested in such a gracious offer, please write back with such comfort. I hope this letter finds thee in valorous graces._

_Sign'd By Thy Truly,_

_A true friend--from the Great Nation of Fire_

*********

Sokka was five-years-old when he found a messenger hawk in the ice. He wandered off a little too far from the rest of the tribe members, where they were setting up for a festive dinner. It was tradition that everyone ate together, and he promised that he'd be back in no time, but...

_...But he was lost now._

He sat on a pillow of snow--too anxious to try and figure his way around the ice. His father always told him to stay where he was if he ever got lost; the rest of the hunters would find him eventually. He hoped it would be soon, since the snow was cold and the sun was going down.

Two hours passed, and his butt started to ache. He tried standing up and shaking off the shivers--jogging in place and focusing on his breathing. He hoped his father would be there soon. He was cold and scared and _alone_ \--

Wait. No, he wasn't.

What was that?

Just on the edge of the snow, where the sea started and land ended, sat a shivering messenger hawk. Sokka carefully drew near the bird, not knowing what it was. There were no hawks in the Southern Region; the tribe mainly communicated with snowy owls if they wanted to reach other regions of the world.

But hawks?

What was a hawk doing here? And where was it from?

Sokka carefully sat in front of the bird when he got near enough, trying not to startle the poor thing. It pecked at him when he put his hand on its head, causing him to yelp.

"I'm just trying to help..." Sokka sniffled, rubbing his scratched palm. 

Perhaps the bird understood him, because when Sokka tried to pet the hawk a few minutes later, it let him. Its feathers were soft to the touch, but firm where they stood. The boy carefully lifted the shivering bird into his arms, hugging it closely. This way, they would both get body warmth from each other.

It wasn't too long afterward that someone found him.

The five-year-old heard his name in the distance; sure enough, it was his father. 

"Sokka!" His father ran over to him, carrying a heavy fur coat in his arms. "Sokka, what are you doing?!"

"Dad!" Sokka bounced in his spot, happy to be found. "Dad! Look what I found!"

As his father came closer, Sokka carefully stretched out his arms to show him the hawk. Hakoda stopped just a few feet away from his son in shock; a hawk wasn't supposed to be in this part of the land. The man carefully approached the boy, draping the fur coat around him to warm him up before attempting to take the hawk out of his arms.

It didn't work. The bird started screeching and pecking. Hakoda backed away just in time.

"Maybe it doesn't like you..." Sokka said solemnly, sighing at the bird in his arms. "Why don't you like my dad, Hawky?"

Hakoda backtracked. "...Hawky?"

"It's his name," the boy explained, still cradling the bird. "He needed a name. It's Hawky now."

"That's... okay, sure." Hakoda decided to deal with the mess later. "Let's get back to the rest, shall we?"

As his son trudged along with an extra bounce in his step, the man wondered what he would do. It wasn't every day that a Fire Nation messenger hawk landed in the snow, shivering and clinging to a child. 

_Especially one that carried a letter in its carrier._

*********

"Is this some kind of sick joke?!" Bato scoffed as he threw the letter down on a table. "Why the hell would the Fire Nation--"

"I don't know," Hakoda sighed, clearly irritated. "But Sokka found it."

The two men sat in the Southern Water Tribe's meeting tent. Bato, having studied Fire Nation characters before, did his best to translate the letter. The message the two men came across was met with utter disbelief. 

"Look, 'Koda, I translated as much as I could, but it doesn't just seem like the Fire Nation wrote it." Bato looked around to make sure no one had heard before he leaned in and whispered, "It seems like something a palace royal would write. The words are too formal. The letter is written in a _totally_ different way; normal Fire Nation citizens don't speak like this."

Hakoda whispered back, "I get that, but maybe it's just someone who's pretending to be part of the Fire Nation."

"Sure, but how the _fuck_ do you get a Fire Nation messenger hawk?!"

"Maybe a thief? Or a traitor to the Fire Nation?"

"How do you steal a hawk?! Those things fly!"

"I don't know!" Hakoda leaned away, putting his head in his hands and groaning loudly. "I don't know! But Sokka likes the hawk, and I don't want to be _that parent_ that tells their kid that they can't play with an enemy's belongings!"

"So this is about Sokka?" Bato was no longer whispering, but he wasn't harsh with his words either. "He'll understand. He's a big kid now."

"He's _five,_ Bato. He still thinks girls have special germs."

"...Good point."

The two men settled back on their seats, still trying to come up with a plan. They found a Fire Nation messenger hawk. They found a letter in its carrier. They translated the strange language into their own. What now?

Do they kill the hawk?

In the background, they could hear the hawk screeching, flinging itself against the cage the two men put it in. It wanted to be let out. It wanted to be free. It wanted to go home.

In hindsight, Hakoda knew he couldn't let the hawk go back to where it came from. What would happen if the hawk went back to its owner? Especially when Bato mentioned that the letter seemed like it was written by a palace royal. Who's to say that the next thing that appears wouldn't be a fleet of Fire Nation soldiers, ready to raid their village again?

But if they kill the hawk...

Would anyone find out?

Hakoda half-considered bashing the bird against the wall, putting it out of its misery. Every time he considered doing it--right then and there--Sokka's face came to mind. His brain searched for a plan, looking at the letter as he pondered. When he finally thought of one, he got up and started walking to the exit of the meeting tent.

"Don't kill the hawk," Hakoda told Bato. "But burn the letter."

As the chief walked out of the tent, Bato did just that.

*********

"Dad's back!" Sokka cheered, running over to cling onto his father's legs the minute the man walked into the igloo.

Hakoda laughed merrily, reaching down and picking up his son. He carried the boy in his arms, walking further into the igloo and placing him by the fur-skin carpet on the ground. Just to their side, Kya braided Katara's hair, trying to keep her still as she babbled away about an animated story she heard from her grandmother. Hakoda smiled at his wife before sitting down in front of his son, taking the boy's hands in his.

"Now, Sokka," the man began, "You know that I love you, right?"

"Why wouldn't you?" His son smiled at him, clearly proud of his own comment.

Hakoda shook his head, smiling back at the boy. Sometimes he wondered where the boy got his light sarcasm from. Other times he remembered how he tortured his own parents just the same way. 

"Do you remember the hawk?" Hakoda continued.

"Hawky?" Sokka asked. "Yeah, is he okay? Is Hawky still cold?"

"No, no. Hawky's not cold..." The man coughed awkwardly. "...But Hawky's in a cage."

"Dad!" His son was shocked to his core. "If you're worried about Hawky hurting you, just be nice to him! He won't bite if you pet him! Why did you put him in a cage?!"

"That's the thing, son. Hawky, well..." He wondered how he would explain this to the young boy. "...Hawky is not a nice bird."

"But he's nice to me!"

"I know, son. But the place Hawky comes from... It's not a nice place. Do you remember the stories about the firebenders that took away the waterbenders in this village?" When he saw his son nod, Hakoda continued, "Well, Hawky comes from that place. He comes from a place where firebenders are. If we let Hawky go, he can go tell the Fire Nation. Do you know what happens next?"

"Fire Nation comes here..." Sokka whispered, remembering all the stories his parents and grandmother told him. "Fire Nation attacks."

"Exactly. See? Things are a bit complicated. If Hawky goes back to his owners, things will be bad for us."

"Who owns Hawky, dad?"

"I don't know, son."

"But won't they be worried? If Hawky doesn't go back home, won't the owners be sad?"

Hakoda didn't have an answer. He reassured Sokka that the village would take care of the hawk instead. It didn't ease the boy's mind in any way, but he watched as his son got up from the fur-skin carpet and walked out of the igloo with a small huff.

The chief rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache coming. He thought his plan would work--trying to explain as best as he could to his son as to why the hawk was dangerous. Obviously, he thought wrong.

But no one said parenting was easy.

*********

That night, Sokka snuck out of his parents' igloo and quietly wandered into the meeting tent. He made sure to mask his footsteps ever so carefully. Once inside, he saw the hawk in its locked cage. Slowly and carefully, Sokka picked the lock and let the bird out, cradling it.

"Are you okay, Hawky?" he whispered, combing through its feathers. 

The bird let out a soft screech, nuzzling up to the boy. The five-year-old held in his laughter, trying not to let the ticklish feeling of feather under his chin get the best of him. He quietly set the hawk on the ground, fishing for a letter he wrote. He secretly took a piece of papyrus from his Uncle Bato's igloo, using the ink in his stash to spell out words as best as he could before hiding the paper in his pocket.

Now that he looked over it, he should have waited for the ink to dry before folding it and shoving it into his pocket. His calligraphy was spread over so messily, but the words were still legible. Carefully, he rolled it up and put it into the hawk's carrier.

"Can you take this back to where you came from?" Sokka asked quietly, picking up the hawk. "You have to come back though, okay? But don't let my dad see you."

As efficiently as he could, Sokka walked out of the meeting tent and threw the bird into the air, watching it fly away. As soon as he was sure the hawk had left, he tiptoed back into his parents' igloo, heading back to his cot.

He fell asleep, knowing Hawky would deliver his message.

Perhaps he would get a reply soon enough.

*********

_Hello,_

_My name is Sokka. You lost Hawky. I hope Hawky comes back home. What is your name?_

_\- Sokka_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought of the beginning!! <3


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakoda worried for his people, knowing that letting go of the enemy's bird would lead to some form of disaster. Iroh was just shocked as to why his messenger hawk wasn't dead yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: n/a

The next morning, the sun's rays burned brightly in the Southern hemisphere. The tribe members exited their igloos, shielding their eyes as the brightness reflected itself into the snow. Despite the brightness hurting their eyes, they were hopeful that day. Perhaps they could hunt better; the fauna's dull fur and skin would stand out better in contrast to the bright snow. 

That morning, Hakoda rounded Bato as the man got out of his igloo. He dragged him into the meeting tent; a look of pure anger was painted well on the chief's face.

"I thought I told you not to kill the hawk!" Hakoda lectured, screaming as he looked around the meeting tent. "Where is that thing?! What did you do to it?!"

"I didn't do anything!" Bato stood near the exit of the tent, blocking the flap and preventing anyone else from coming inside. "I left the bird in the cage! I just burned the letter!"

"The hawk's not here, Bato!" 

"What do you mean by that? I clearly left the cage locked!"

"The cage is _open!_ "

"What?" Bato walked deeper into the tent, heading near the cage. He crouched down, observing the tampered lock and the opened cage door. "How...? Did the bird peck its way out?"

"I don't know," Hakoda sighed, walking to the center table and pulling out a seat for himself. "We should have just killed the damn thing."

"Really?" Bato walked over to his friend, sitting down next to him. "What about Sokka?"

"I thought you said Sokka was a big boy now. That he would understand."

"Yeah, but he's still a kid, 'Koda." Bato put his hand on the chief's shoulder comfortingly. "Remember what you said yesterday? The boy still thinks girls have special germs. I don't think he'd understand what it means to be wary of the enemy. The war hasn't soiled his brain yet."

"Bato, the enemy's bird is on the loose. If it returns to the Fire Nation..."

"I know, 'Koda. I know. We'll just have to prepare until then."

The two men sat on the meeting table in silence. They knew their people were in danger. It wouldn't be long before a Fire Nation ship docked by their land, ready to pillage and raid everything they kept safe. Last time, the Fire Nation soldiers took their waterbenders. 

This time, who knew what they would lose. Women? Children? More men? Their fauna? Their homes? Would their snow be burned until all that was left was solid ground?

As they sat in silence, they thought about what could have happened--how the hawk could have escaped. It just didn't make sense. In hindsight, the lock was enforced by thick bones. The hawk was weakened by the cold; it would have had a hard time pecking its way out. The key that fit through the lock was tiny; the hawk's beak was sharp, but stubbed. The only way for the hawk to have escaped would be to have something so small that would fit through the lock and unhinge its mechanics.

Like a sharp, thin beak, which the hawk didn't have.

Or a sharp talon, which was also stubbed and widened near the root.

Or a stick, which would have been a good solution--if the hawk could fit its head out of its cage in the first place to retrieve said stick. 

The two men made sure the cage was, in every way possible, hawk-proof. No part of the bird could come out of the cage; it was structured too tightly.

Which meant that the hawk must have had outside help, and come to think of it, the lock could have been unhinged with a delicate touch inside. If someone put their finger in, the lock would have come undone just enough to open the cage.

But the finger would have had to be small. So small.

Like a child's finger.

_...A child's finger..._

In unison, they realized, "Sokka."

*********

"Sokka!" Hakoda marched into his home, yelling for his son. He spotted his wife folding newly-washed clothing and asked her, "Where's Sokka?"

"What's wrong?" Kya stood up from her cot, placing the fur coat in her hand down. "Are you alright? You seem--"

"I'm fine. I just need to see Sokka."

"What did he do this time?" The woman sighed, trying to calm her husband down. "You know he's just a child, my love... He probably didn't mean it."

"He freed the hawk, Kya!" Hakoda told his wife last evening what Sokka had found in the snow. "He let the bird go back to the Fire Nation!"

"I'm..." Kya tried to find a way around the mess. "...I'm sure he didn't mean to. Hakoda, honey, he's just a kid."

"Even if he's just a kid, he shouldn't have done that! Who know what will happen now! Our people can't afford another raid!"

Right near his rant, Hakoda saw his son walk into the igloo, stopping just near the opening. The chief turned to his son, trying to conceal his panicked expression. He watched as the five-year-old slowly walked up to him.

"Dad, are you okay?" The boy looked at his father in worry.

"Sokka," Hakoda ignored his son's question. "Did you take the hawk out of the cage?"

No answer. All he was given was a look of shock.

"When did you do it?" The man pressed on. "Was it last night?"

Sokka nodded slowly, knowing that he wouldn't be able to lie his way out so easily.

"Why?" Hakoda sighed in exasperation. "Is that all you did? Did you just take the hawk out of its cage?"

No answer again. It worried the chief. 

"Sokka, please," The man begged. "Please tell me that all you did was set the hawk free. _Please._ "

"I took Uncle Bato's paper from his igloo..." The boy admitted, looking down at his feet. "...I wrote a letter."

"You did _what?_ " Hakoda rubbed his face with both hands in frustration. "You sent a letter with the hawk?!"

"It was just to ask if Hawky went back home safely!" Sokka looked at his father, trying to defend himself. 

"Sokka, you--!" No, he shouldn't yell at a child. Instead, the man got on his knees, putting his hands on his son's shoulders. "Sokka, I know you care about the bird, but you shouldn't have done what you did. You should have listened to me."

"But--"

"No, son. I'm not finished talking," the man silenced before continuing, "Sokka, the war is dangerous. The Fire Nation is not friendly. Yesterday, they sent a bird. Tomorrow, they might send a soldier. Who knows when a ship will dock by our land? This village lost too much to let small mistakes slide--like the one you've made. I'm very disappointed in you, son."

Hakoda got up, walking out of the igloo. He couldn't find it in him to look back at his son and his wife; his mind was all over the place. He needed to talk to Bato--try to figure out a strategy. The village needed to expect another raid. He needed to round up all the men--tell them to start preparing for an attack.

The chief needed to protect his people.

*********

Inside the igloo, Kya tried her best to cheer up her son. Her daughter had come back inside not too long after Hakoda walked out. She could understand her husband's frustration and worry.

But still, she was a mother. It hurt her to see her son silently walk to his cot, not once bothering to run over to his sister and carry her around--just as he usually did when she got back from playing out in the snow. Even when Katara walked over and tugged at her brother's clothing, trying to get him to play with her, Sokka didn't move.

The boy sat on his cot, facing the wall of the igloo. He tried to stop the tears begging to run down his face, but his efforts were all in vain. He sat there, crying silently as he thought about what his father said to him. The words cut deep, and he realized that maybe-- _just maybe--_ he made the wrong decision.

_"I'm very disappointed in you, son."_

*********

Iroh, in the bluntest terms, was shocked to his core. It had been two weeks since he sent his hawk away, ready to mourn the loss of his beloved bird. He drafted a letter to his father, telling him that an enemy had intercepted a letter about military commands and most likely killed his hawk. It was a believable lie; no one would question the Crown Prince of the throne, nor would they question the general of the military base. 

Just as he grabbed the letter and was about to walk out of his chambers, his hawk flew through his window. It now sat on its pillar, completely unfazed by Iroh's look of surprise and mild confusion.

What confused the man more was the fact that his hawk seemed to have a letter in its carrier. 

Iroh placed the letter to the Fire Lord back down on his desk, walking to his hawk with his guard up. He carefully took the letter out of the carrier, unraveling it slowly. It took him a moment to realize that the characters used in the letter weren't part of any of the Fire Nation national languages. 

If anything, the characters looked to be part of a Water Tribe language. 

The general wasted no time in placing the letter he received on his desk, walking to his personal library. He looked over his vast collection of scrolls before his eyes landed on the two that he needed.

One scroll for the Northern Water Tribe language. Another scroll for the Southern Water Tribe language.

In essence, both languages were very similar. Only some letters were different; some were nonexistent, while others had different pronunciations. Each region had a different dialect, and if Iroh could decode which one it was...

He sat down at his desk, going through both scrolls with each character he found. Slowly, he started to piece together the sounds of each written word. The more he decoded the letters, the more he realized that the message was sent from the Southern Water Tribe.

And the more he looked over the letter, the more he realized that the handwriting resembled the chaotic hand of a child.

*********

It took him a while. He might have spent nearly an hour or so decoding the letter. Going through two more scrolls from his personal library, trying to find the meaning of the words he decoded, he slowly realized what the message said--or what it was intended to say.

_Greetings,_

_Mine own name is_ (whatever this word was). _Thee hath lost_ (another unknown word, but it spelled 'hawk' in some way). _I desire_ (the same strange 'hawk' word) _returns back home._ _What is thy name?_

 _-_ (the same word used in the beginning)

With his best deduction skills, Iroh realized that the first word was a name. It had a weird spelling--one that he had never seen before. The scrolls he used weren't much help, but they helped him get somewhat closer to the sound. So far, it spelled 'Zocca', but Iroh was sure it was something else.

For now, _Zocca_ would be the stranger's name.

As for the 'hawk' word, it didn't take a genius to realize that the stranger named his hawk. The other letter attached to the word 'hawk' could have easily been an 'ee' sound. 

So Hawkee. Or Hawky? Or Hawkie?

Hawkie sounded right. 

If anything, it confirmed Iroh's suspicions from before. The stranger was a child. No adult would name his hawk something so, well, childish. If it was an adult, they would have given the name of Flight or Fire, even Wings or Messenger. 

But Hawkie? It reminded him of his nephew, who named all the turtleducks in the palace garden as Turtleduckie the First, Turtleduckie the Second, and so on. Perhaps the stranger was also five.

No. That would be too much of a coincidence.

*********

Iroh caught his nephew practicing his katas in the palace garden. A firebending instructor was correcting his form ever so slightly, but the boy was shaking like a leaf. The general soon realized why: Ozai was watching his son very intently.

"Prince Zuko, thou might not stand but a bit straighter," the instructor advised. "Extend thy arms as thou perform."

"Yes, Sifu Tsu," his nephew said, standing straighter and raising his arms above his chest as instructed.

The boy still wavered under his father's glare as he threw a flame into the air. Iroh decided to ease his nephew's burden. He walked over to where his brother sat, addressing the man.

"Brother," Iroh waved with a slight smile.

"Crown Prince Iroh," Ozai addressed, still keeping a glare on the boy. 

"'Tis a lovely day. Why doth thou look so sorrow-faced?"

"Thou would too if thy son hath not mastered a beginner's move. Yet alas, thy own son hath many talents."

"Mine own son is not able to bend fire like thy son." Iroh looked over at his nephew, trying to placate his brother. "Thy son is skilled in an art not many bear the power to control. Agni hath blessed thy firstborn."

"Mine firstborn is still a long way from bearing the control of his flames," Ozai scoffed. "Agni hath not blessed mine son, yet cursed him. One can only hope he was more like his sister. Mine daughter already knows how to--"

"Why do not we walk around the palace garden?" Iroh interrupted, offering a small get-away to his brother. "It shall clear thy mind from thy burdens, dear brother."

"Very well," Ozai sighed, getting up from his spot on the grass and standing at his brother's side. "After thou, Crown Prince Iroh."

The two men walked away from the boy and his instructor. Iroh eased Ozai into another conversation about politics, effectively taking the other man's mind off of Zuko. They discussed the war in all its glory--about what they should do with the military and how they should aid their father. 

Iroh decided to talk to his nephew about the letter later on in the day.

*********

Zuko knew that his father and his grandfather expected him to talk in a noble pedigree. They spoke so highly--in a way that was far distinct from the dialect of normal Fire Nation citizens. Years of languages evolving did little to impact the way the royal family spoke; it was only expected that the children of Fire Lord ancestry spoke with a pristine tongue.

In truth, Zuko knew how to speak like a royal. He--even in his young age--was taught how to from the minute he said his first words. When he was with his father, he spoke in a way that foretold where he got his blood. When he was near his grandfather, people know he was the prince of the Fire Nation.

But his mother came from common blood. She was married into the royal family, simply because her grandfather was the last avatar. She learned to speak the way her people spoke; her words were those of common Fire Nation citizens. When she married into the Fire Lord's family, she learned quite quickly what happened if she spoke in a way she wasn't supposed to. She learned to speak in a noble tongue.

It didn't stop her from speaking in her native dialect. 

With her children, she learned that their minds were young. They picked up on both dialects easily, knowing when to switch as needed. With Ursa, both Azula and Zuko spoke freely. 

Iroh and Lu Ten followed just as easily. The general quickly caught onto his sister-in-law speaking much differently with her children. He learned to ease her mind by speaking in her dialect, showing his son when and how to do so as well. They weren't, by any means, good at it; they were just decent enough for her to understand without much struggle.

Zuko quickly learned that those that spoke like his mother were nice to him (even Azula; she had her moments). With the common dialect, it was easy to riddle off words in his mind. It was much easier to write. It was much easier to speak. It was much easier to read.

He quickly learned that the royal family generally despised the common dialect, simply because the Fire Lord believed that his ancestors and descendants were above using such common words. In front of his father and grandfather, he masked his knowledge of the common dialect. So did his mother, his uncle, his cousin, and his sister.

When he heard his uncle talk to his father, he tried so hard to translate their words into his head--into the common dialect. He tried to imagine his mother talking to him that way. Perhaps if she were saying the same words his father spoke, they would sound less harsh.

No matter how much he translated his uncle's and his father's conversation, he learned that his head couldn't wrap around the message left in the common dialect.

If anything, his mother would never say those things about him.

Nor would his uncle, his cousin, or his sister (since even she had her moments).

*********

Iroh was able to catch his nephew alone after evening dinner. He quickly ushered the boy to his chambers, instructing him to be quiet as they rushed to his private room. Zuko tried hard to keep up with his uncle's long strides--finally catching his breath when he was pushed inside by the man. He watched as the general closed the doors and walked to his table.

Just beyond the table, Zuko saw his uncle's messenger hawk sitting on its pillar--munching on some type of jerky.

"Your hawk came back!" The boy ran to the bird, waving his arms to try to get its attention.

"Indeed," Iroh laughed, "As well as a letter. From a friend, it seems."

"A friend?" Zuko drew near the man, sitting down near the table. "What did they send?"

"It seems that you've made a friend from the Southern Water Nation, Prince Zuko," Iroh explained with a smile. He held up the letter he decoded, placing it into his nephew's curious hands. "They sent you a letter in their language, nephew. This person--they asked if my hawk came back to me."

"What does that say?" Zuko asked, pointing to the unfamiliar word. "Is it spelled wrong?"

"I believe that is your friend's name, Prince Zuko."

"What is it, uncle?"

"Perhaps Zocca, though I am not quite sure."

"Zocca?" The young prince studied the characters on the letter, specifically the characters of the name. "It sounds strange, uncle."

"Nephew, you must realize that the Southern Water Tribe has different names than us," Iroh pointed out gently. "Their names rely on their language. Zocca can mean something important to their culture, just as Zuko means something important to ours."

"Hmm..." The five-year-old studied the characters harder. "...It's still strange."

Iroh left it at that. There was no changing a child's mind.

"How about we write a letter to your new friend?" Iroh offered. "We can tell Zocca that my hawk is home safely. Your friend seems like a child, just like you. We can ask for their age."

Zuko quickly agreed. The two spent their late evening drafting a small letter to the new friend. Iroh wrote for his nephew, wanting the message to be at least a little legible. When they were done, they placed the letter into the hawk's carrier, sending the bird back to where it first landed. Iroh and Zuko watched the darkening sky, waving to the bird as it flew away. Differing thoughts made a home in their minds once again.

For Iroh, he was still so skeptical. Was this all a ploy? Who would allow a child (was this Zocca even a child to begin with?) to write a letter, knowing that messenger hawks were only used by the Fire Nation? The stranger didn't seem to regard the letter they first sent out--asking for a name when 'Lee' was already addressed. Should they have written a letter in the Southern Nation's dialect?

If they got a reply, perhaps Iroh would try that. Perhaps he could teach his nephew how to spell characters in the Southern Water Tribe's language. 

Still, Iroh knew to watch over each letter. If it was an enemy, he still had plans to pretend being his nephew's friend. If Zocca was an alias, then he had no choice but to lead his troops to the Southern Water Tribe--all in the name of protecting his nation. For now, he had to wait.

On the other hand, Zuko watched the sky with childlike innocence. 

He wondered when his new friend's next letter would come.

*********

_Greetings, Zocca!_

_Mine own name is Lee. Hawkie hath joined home. What age are thou?_

_Sign'd By Thy Truly,_

_Lee_


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Southern Water Tribe prepares for war. Iroh realizes his mistake in writing for his nephew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: n/a

The Southern Water Tribe men prepared for war. They sharpened their dulled weapons--made new ones to replace the unusable ones. The women and children were drawn into the center of the village, guarded by the men that moved into the outward igloos surrounding the sea. Everyone started rationing their food, hiding preservable edibles into the snow. They drove most of the fauna further into the snow; if the Fire Nation soldiers took their meat, they wouldn't have to unjustifiable kill off all that could be used for food.

War did bad things to people. The tribe members made sure to prepare for the worst; they had a warning this time around.

On the edge of the snow--where the ice met the sea--Hakoda stood and watched the waters. As the chief of the village, it was his duty to protect his people. He waited in the snow every day and night; he waited for the ships to arrive. With little to no rest, he stood in the same spot he found Sokka--the same spot the messenger hawk last landed.

For thirteen days and nights, Hakoda stood as grimly as possible. His hands trembled in the cold, but adrenaline kept him going. His thousand-mile-stare threatened the sea. He was ready to face the ships that would dock on his land.

Albeit, no ships came, but the chief never let himself relax.

On the fourteenth day, Hakoda finally saw something. It soared in the sky, rounding the clouds in circles until it swooped down. The man's hand went behind him, pulling out his boomerang. Just as he was about to aim it at the thing in the air, it came closer. He found himself stepping back a few feet, staring at the thing as it landed on the snow.

If anything, Hakoda expected a Fire Nation aircraft, or even an explosive.

Never in his right mind did he expect the same messenger hawk to come back.

_Especially with another message in its carrier._

*********

Hakoda carried the struggling hawk in his arms, ignoring the stares he received from the other men. Some tried to ask him if the Fire Nation sent a message; he ignored those men without sparing them a minor look. Instead, he headed straight for Bato and grabbed the other man by the arm. The chief dragged his confused friend into the other man's igloo--away from prying eyes and nosy glances.

He sat the other man down on a cot, handing him the distraught hawk in his arms. Bato took one look at the bird before handing it back to the chief.

"I'm not bird-sitting for you," Bato deadpanned.

"What--" Hakoda sighed, irritated. "No, dumbass! It has a message in its carrier. I need you to decode it."

"Then why did you hand me the _whole bird_ when you could've just given me the _message_?!"

"Tui and La, Bato, just take out the damn paper from the thing's carrier!"

Bato put his hands up in a mock-surrender before carefully moving them to the hawk's carrier. The bird stopped struggling as much when hands pried at the message it carried. The man was able to take out the paper and unravel it, leaving Hakoda awkwardly standing in the middle of the igloo with an equally-awkward bird in his arms.

Bato stood up to retrieve his scrolls from the other side of the igloo, not once sparing a glance at his friend. He got to work, quickly translating the words on the paper with a subtle scowl on his face. He wrote little translations on top of the Fire Nation characters, only seeming to struggle a bit on one word in particular. 

"Hey... 'Koda?" Bato did a double-take on the scrolls he was reading.

"What is it?" Hakoda came closer to his friend, awkwardly shuffling the now-sleepy hawk in his arms. "What did you find? What does it say?"

The other man looked up with a confused expression painted on his face. "...What the fuck is a _Zocca?_ "

*********

As silly as it was, they drafted a letter. Between translating the words and finding their meaning, Bato decided that Zocca could have meant something bad.

Perhaps it was a derogatory slur. Perhaps it was just a way to say "water tribe person" in Fire Nation characters.

Either way, Bato sat on his cot, dipping a snowy owl feather into ink as he scribbled words onto fresh papyrus. Hakoda stood over his friend, reading over what the other man was writing. The more the other man wrote, the more concerned Hakoda became.

"Bato, we're trying to _avoid_ the war," Hakoda scolded disapprovingly. "Don't be mean."

"The royal prick asked for my age," Bato dismissed, continuing to write his letter. 

"Sure, but you put the word _ashmaker_ into the letter!"

"They called me a Zocca. They had it coming for them."

"Maybe Zocca means friend?" Hakoda tried to reason. "Or something nice?"

"The Fire Nation is never nice." Bato dipped his feather back into the ink. "Be quiet or go outside. Let me work."

*********

_Hello, Lee._

_For the record, I'm 248 years old. I've been alive for centuries, sitting on this Earth for far too long. The war has gone on for--how long?--a few years close to a century? Maybe it will be my age someday! What about you, ashmaker? How old are you?_

_\- Zocca_

*********

Zuko spent the day sitting by the turtleduck pond with his mother. They fed the tiny creatures with little chunks of bread, watching as the turtleducklings shared amongst each other. The five-year-old was in the middle of telling his mother an animated story about the turtleducks--about how one was the protector of the rest--when he saw the reflection of a messenger hawk in the water.

He looked up, realizing that his uncle's messenger hawk had returned after two long weeks.

The boy shot up, telling his mother that he wanted to go speak to his uncle. All thoughts centering around the story he was telling her vanished. He let his little legs carry him into the palace, running up flights of stairs as he raced to his uncle's chambers. He burst into the room, startling the general. The man was in the middle of unraveling the letter in the bird's carrier, shocked to find a small body barreling into his room.

Zuko bounced in his spot as he looked at the older man. "What does it say, uncle?" 

"Well," Iroh laughed, going over to his nephew and closing the chamber doors, "Why don't we find out?"

*********

When Iroh decoded the message, he knew he couldn't tell his nephew the truth. The boy sat on his desk; a bright smile adorned his impatient face. He hid the letter from the boy's eyes, telling him that he would decode the message himself. 

He was lucky he did that. If he let his nephew look over his scrolls, who knew how fast that bright smile would drop?

The word 'ashmaker' sat boldly on the papyrus in his hands. It was signed by a different name, but it spelled 'Zocca'. Last time he remembered, there were different characters used for the name.

Was Zocca an insult? Had Iroh mistranslated the name?

Come to think of it, the handwriting was different this time. It was more sophisticated--too sophisticated to be done by the hand of a child. Perhaps this Zocca person had parents who found the letter. Perhaps the parents wrote to him this time, clearly unamused by the fact that the Fire Nation was communicating with their child. 

Iroh knew to expect this, but he didn't really know how to respond. He knew that he wrote the letters for his nephew. His handwriting flowed gracefully on his paper, and he had only done it to avoid the messiness of his nephew's handwriting.

Perhaps he was wrong to do that. Perhaps he should have let his nephew write the letters.

_Perhaps it wasn't too late to follow through that._

"Uncle," Zuko wiggled in his spot with impatience. "What does the letter say?"

"It seems that Zocca is a bit shy to tell you their age, nephew," Iroh lied. He had to lie. "Your friend is asking for your own."

"My age?" 

"Indeed, nephew." And also... "Perhaps you should write to your friend this time."

"Really?!" Zuko jumped off of the desk, excitement itching off of him. "Can I?! Do I have to write like a prince?"

"You can write in any way you please, nephew." Iroh grabbed a fresh papyrus from his desk, motioning his nephew over. "Come. I'll watch over you as you write."

They did just that. Zuko shakily took a quill feather from his uncle's hands, writing in an informal language. The five-year-old didn't want his new friend to be shy of him; maybe his friend was shy because his uncle spoke like a noble. If he wrote like the way his mother spoke, his mind rationalized that his friend would feel safe enough to speak to him.

Iroh stood behind the boy, correcting him as he spelled something wrong. More than once, Zuko turned to his uncle over a word he didn't know. The general gladly helped his nephew, patiently watching over the child and correcting his calligraphy from getting too messy.

As soon as the letter was finished, Iroh took it and hid it. They made a plan to meet back by nightfall--when they would send the letter back to the Southern pole.

Zuko skipped out of the room, heading back to his mother. He saw her still sitting by the palace pond; he ran up to her with a wide smile on his face. She saw him coming and took the boy into her arms, asking him what he did.

"I wrote a letter!" Zuko beamed.

"That's wonderful!" Ursa smiled back at her son. "To whom?"

"To a friend!"

"That's lovely, sweetie."

They left it at that. Ursa assumed it was for Mai or Ty Lee, or even Azula. Who was she to pry? She listened to her son as he picked back up from where he left off, telling her about the protector of turtleducks that warded off evil spirits.

*********

When nightfall came, Iroh snuck his nephew back into his chambers. Together, they rolled up the letter and put it into the messenger hawk's carrier. Zuko gave a piece of elk jerky to the bird--wishing the hawk a safe journey. 

As Iroh released the bird out of his window, he watched with a new hope. With his nephew by his side, staring out of the window and at the bird's retreating form, he thought about the handwriting from the last letter.

He was certain Zocca was a child. He just hoped Zocca would respond this time--for the sake of his nephew.

As Zuko stared at the bird, he felt happiness flutter rapidly in his chest.

He wondered how old his friend was.

*********

_~~Gretings~~ ~~Greatings~~ Hello, Zocca!_

_I am five ~~yeuars~~ years old, but I am ~~tuning~~ turning six ~~son~~ soon! My uncle ~~rote~~ wrote for me ~~bephore~~ ~~bephor~~ before, but he said I can ~~rite~~ write to you ~~tooday~~ today! My ~~writeing~~ writing is a ~~litle~~ little messy, so I am ~~sorri~~ sorry. How are you?_

_~~Sined~~ ~~Sighned~~ Signed By,_

_~~Z~~ Lee :-)_


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka and Zuko finally address their first letters to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: n/a

Another two weeks passed as the chief of the Southern Water Tribe waited for the bird to return. When the messenger hawk landed back in the snow, Hakoda made quick work and took off his fur coat. He placed it over the bird, huddling it into the fur coat and keeping it from scratching him. As quickly as he could, he ran into Bato's igloo, effectively avoiding all the other members of the tribe.

Once he was inside, he went to Bato's side and flung his coat at the other man. Bato, in his surprise, caught the coat and reached inside. As soon as his hand was inside the clothing, he quickly took it out and hissed in pain. Something clawed at him harshly, and he had a feeling he knew what that thing was.

"Hakoda, what the hell?!" Bato screeched. "What did I say about handing me the message?!"

"The bird has the message," Hakoda deadpanned.

"Then take the message _out_ of its carrier!"

"You have the stupid bird. You do it."

"Ugh, fine, here--" Bato wrestled the fur coat off of the hawk and shoved the creature into Hakoda's unsuspecting arms. "Hold the bird."

Ignoring the whining coming from the chief, Bato carefully reached for the carrier and grabbed the message inside. He unraveled it, stepping away from his friend, and took a hard look at the message. 

A pit in his stomach started to form. It didn't look like the handwriting from before.

_Something was wrong._

He reached for his scrolls and quickly started to decode the message. With shaky hands, he put the scrolls down as he finished up. He must have been staring at the note for a long time; Hakoda let go of the hawk and stepped closer to his friend.

"Bato? Hey, what's wrong?" The chief put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Did you anger the Fire Nation?"

"...This is a child," Bato whispered in disbelief.

"...What?"

"Lee's five."

Hakoda took a step back in confusion. "...Run that by me one more time."

"I said Lee's _five_. As in five-years-old. Like Sokka. Your son. Your five-year-old _toddler child!_ "

At that point, Bato was fully looking at Hakoda. Neither of the two men believed what was happening. Hakoda reached for the letter, snatching it out of Bato's hand and taking a hard look at it. Tiny little translations were written on top by Bato, but the handwriting resembled his son's own handwriting (even if it was much neater).

"Okay, fine. That's cool. Absolutely fine. Great." Hakoda looked up from the letter. "But then who in _Tui and La's name is Zocca?_ "

Bato took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "...Okay, I have a hunch. A _tiny, little_ speculation. And you're going to be mad at me."

"Why would I be mad?"

"You're going to be mad."

"Just spill. I'm not going to be mad."

"I think the Zocca person is actually Sokka." Bato snatched the letter back, pointing to the word 'Zocca' and carefully explaining, "It's just spelled incorrectly. It sounds way off, but it still kind of spells Sokka."

"My son knows how to spell his own name, Bato." 

"Sure, but maybe Lee doesn't know?" The other man looked at the letter one more time before saying, "Or actually, Lee's uncle. I'm pretty sure the guy wrote for Lee until this letter."

"So what you're telling me is that," Hakoda paused, rubbing his temples in utter frustration. "You wrote to a literal _child_ , and told that _child_ that the war was almost as old as your pretentious age?!" 

"How was I supposed to know that it was a child?!" Bato defended, throwing the letter at the chief. "Besides, I'm pretty sure the Royal Uncle translates for Lee!"

"Not only did you write to a child, but you wrote to a Fire Nation _noble?!_ "

"I thought I mentioned that when I first translated the letter."

"You did! But! It's not even a regular citizen! It's a damn Royal Palace boy!" The chief put his head in his hands, laughing humorlessly. "How much do you want to bet that this Lee person has ties to the Fire Lord?!"

"True, but look at the letter, 'Koda." It took a lot for Bato to not yell, but he knew that it wasn't what his friend needed at the moment. "When I translated the letters from before, you could practically tell the words were from higher nobility. But now? Now, the language is more accessible. There's no way Lee has ties to the Fire Lord. Maybe his uncle is an advisor. But Lee? Not a chance."

"Cool. That's cool. Fixes _all_ of our problems, _doesn't it?_ " the chief said sarcastically, noting how it made the other man sigh. "This doesn't change the fact that we're communicating with _the Fire Nation!_

"I may have overestimated my translation abilities," Bato admitted, and then slowly said, "But maybe there's a way to fix this."

The two men looked at each other. It was as though they were communicating with their eyes. Slowly, but surely, Hakoda found out what his friend was hinting at. The chief took another step back, almost stepping on the hawk.

"...No." Hakoda shook his head. "No, Bato. _No._ Never."

"It's the only way. Trust me."

"I don't trust you."

"Please?"

"No."

There was no room for argument.

_Unless..._

"If you don't listen to me," Bato threatened, "I'm going to tell on you."

It took a long time for the other man to process those words. "Bato, we're _men_. We're about to enter the ages of our midlife crises."

"Aunty Kanna won't be pleased to hear that her son has been communicating with the Fire Nation."

"My mother wouldn't be pleased to hear that you practically cursed out a child either."

"I didn't even curse the kid out. I just... you know, gave Lee my salutations."

"You did it rudely."

"So? What're you going to do to prove it? Translate theletters we _burnt_?"

Hakoda had enough. "Bato, look--"

"No, Hakoda. Listen to me." Bato held up a hand to the other man's face, silencing him as he continued, "This is the only way. If there was another way, I'd tell you. If we don't send a letter back, another hawk might come. And then another. And another. Who knows when a ship will dock? Why not just stop the cycle now, or even just continue it at our own pace?"

The chief considered the facts. What his friend was saying was true. If they didn't send the hawk back, who knew what would happen? Messenger hawks didn't go back without a message. The only way to ensure that the hawk returned--if at all--would be to send a note back.

If Lee got the note, and then proceeded to get upset, then it could possibly be disastrous for the village. 

_But still..._

"If anything happens to my son..." Hakoda warned in a low voice, clenching his fists.

Bato shook his head reassuringly. "Nothing will happen to Sokka."

"Years of friendship won't ever stop me from pummeling your ass into hardened snow."

"I don't doubt that."

*********

Bato looked around the village, and eventually found Sokka crouched over in the snow--tracing outlines with a stray stick. He slowly went over to the boy and crouched next to him. 

"Hey, bud," the man greeted. "What are you doing here?"

Sokka shrugged, continuing to draw. "Drawing penguin seals in the snow."

"That looks fun! Can I join?"

"Okay." After a moment, the boy looked up and challenged, "But I'm better than you."

"Oh, is it a contest?"

Seeing the five-year-old sternly nod made Bato laugh. He picked up another stick nearby and started to draw in the snow. A herd of penguin seals stood a few meters away, unknowingly letting the two members of the water tribe sketch them.

Bato would never admit it, but he made sure to sketch horribly. Even with years of art practice, he was willing to put aside talent just to see a child laugh at his drawing.

Maybe when Sokka was older, Bato would show him true skill.

_But for now..._

"So, bud, I was thinking..." The man put down his stick and turned to the boy. "Remember the bird you saw?"

"Hawky?" Sokka looked up with a wide smile, but slowly looked back down with a frown. "Why? Are you mad, too?"

"What? No! Why would I be mad?"

"Dad was mad at me because I let Hawky go..." The boy started to whirl the snow around his small drawings, erasing the pictures of the penguin seals. "He said he was disappointed in me..."

"Your dad was just being dramatic," Bato scoffed, shaking his head. "But anyways, the hawk came back."

"Really?!" It seemed to bring the boy out of his sorrow-filled mood. "Where?! Can I meet Hawky?!"

"Hawky is with your dad," the man explained, taking note of how the boy grew worried. "How about we go to together, hm? Your dad wanted to tell you something."

He saw hesitation in the boy's face, but he stood up from the snow nonetheless. Bato gave his hand to Sokka, watching as the five-year-old took it in his with a bit of reluctance. With a bit of coaxing, they walked hand-in-hand to Bato's igloo.

*********

As the two entered the igloo, their eyes landed on the chief of the water tribe. The man was holding the messenger hawk away from him, trying to control the agitated bird from digging its talons into his arm.

"Bato, help! The fucking bird is--" Hakoda stopped when his eyes landed on not only Bato, but also... "Sokka!"

Sokka turned to Bato, asking with wide and curious eyes, "What's fucking?"

The two men locked eyes with each other before Bato turned to the boy and explained, "That's a grown-up word, bud. You're not supposed to use it."

"But I'm five. I'm old enough!"

"Oh boy..." Hakoda sighed. He had half a mind to let the angry bird in his arms peck him to death on sight. 

"Sure, yes. Good point." Bato coughed awkwardly, pointing to the chief. "But you have to be as old as your dad if you want to use that word."

"But my dad is old," Sokka whined. "Like... _really_ old."

"Yup." Bato smiled at his friend. "He sure is. An old man. _Very_ old. A total grandpa."

Hakoda scoffed. "You're the same age as me, Bato."

"Hawky!" The boy interrupted the two men as he reached over to the bird. "You're alive!"

Somehow, without the chief wanting to, the hawk wrangled itself out of the man's arms and flew to the boy. It settled down at the five-year-old's feet, letting the child pet it and huddle it into his arms. The two men watched as the boy interacted with the once-agitated bird--babbling away as he stoked its feathers with the upmost care.

It was confusing. But also very adorable. And nerve-wrecking. 

_The bird wasn't that nice to them..._

But, in the same way, they weren't that nice to the stupid bird either...

"Son, would you like to write a letter?" Hakoda walked over to the boy, crouching down to be at eye-level with the child.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to..." Sokka continued to pet the hawk, but his voice was solemn. "...You'll be disappointed..."

"I know; I _was_." The man rested his hand on his son's shoulder gently. "Sokka, can you look at me?"

It took a while, but the boy eventually looked up at him. Words slowly started to fill the chief's head as he thought of a way to explain himself.

"I was really scared, Sokka. I thought it was dangerous. Fire Nation is always dangerous. But see, Hawky came back, didn't he?" At the mention of its name, the hawk turned to the man. If it glared, Hakoda ignored it. "And look, when Hawky came back, he brought a letter."

Digging into one of his pockets, the man pulled out a folded letter and gave it to his son. He watched as the boy slowly rested the hawk back on the ground as he unraveled it and looked at it in confusion.

"What does it say?" Sokka asked.

The Fire Nation words were confusing; not even the little translation on top helped.

"It's from a Fire Nation person your age," Hakoda explained. "Their name is Lee. They're asking how old you are."

His son looked up at him with a questioning glance. "Is Lee a boy or a girl?"

"Does it matter?"

"Girls have germs."

"Sure, that makes sense." The logic of a five-year-old confused him, but Hakoda nodded as though he understood. "How about you ask them?"

Sokka considered that suggestion for a while. He looked at his father, asking, "Will you be mad?" 

"Not anymore." The chief shook his head, smiling at his son. "And I wasn't mad, son. I was just a little disappointed."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

*********

The two men watched as the boy in front of them drafted a careful letter. They gave him scrolls, telling him to write as much as he wanted. They stood by the child patiently, peering over his shoulder as he wrote down Fire Nation characters one-by-one with shaky hands. Hakoda didn't know what was going on, but Bato seemed mildly pleased.

"How's he doing?" Hakoda asked in a whisper, leaning towards the other man to lower his voice even more. "You haven't said anything for the past ten minutes. Is Sokka really good at writing?"

Bato shook his head; a small smile adorned his face. "Nope. I don't even need the scrolls to know that your boy spelled _at least_ ten different words wrong."

If Hakoda was offended, he didn't let the other man know. Instead, he nudged him harshly and hissed, "Then why aren't you correcting him?"

"That's how five-year-old write." Bato rubbed the side he was nudged at as he explained, "If anything is going to convince Lee's uncle that Sokka is a five-year-old, it's his mistakes. Using their language will only be better for us in the long run. We can prevent a total war this way."

"My son shouldn't have to use another nation's language."

"I know." It truly was sad. "But this way, we won't be attacked. Chances are, and in even the slightest, the Fire Nation will think we're abandoning our culture. It's what they want anyways."

"Yeah..." It wasn't right, but... "It's safer."

They stood in silence after that. Occasionally, they could hear the frustrated murmuring of the five-year-old in front of them. The same thought passed through their heads: if the war wasn't ongoing, then a tiny child wouldn't have to learn another language solely to please an entire nation. 

All for the sake of their culture...

All for the sake of protecting what a powerful nation wanted gone...

But if it was the right thing to do, then--

"I'm done!" Sokka looked up at the two men, holding up the letter with a slight frown. "But I don't know how to write my name..."

"Just write it in our language, bud," Bato encouraged. "I'm sure Lee won't mind."

Sokka's eyes glimmered with glee as he set the paper back down and wrote his name at the bottom of the letter. He then put down the snowy owl feather and held up the letter, waving it enthusiastically.

With a wide smile, he exclaimed, "Done!" 

"Good job!" Bato took the letter from the boy's hand, making sure the ink was dried before he rolled it up. "Let's send it off, alright?"

"Okay!" The five-year-old leapt up from the couch and ran to the hawk behind the two men.

Hakoda and Bato watched the boy gently pet the bird, placing it on his lap as he fawned over the foreign creature. A part of them wondered if they made the right decision. 

The chief sighed, pointing to the letter in the other man's hand as he whispered, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Bato looked at the letter, clenching it tightly as he whispered back, "Just trust me, 'Koda."

"...I trust you."

*********

Sokka ran back into his parent's igloo once Hawky had flown away. He spotted his mother braiding his sister's hair, gently humming to the girl as she did so. He ran over, completely out of breath but still excited to tell her everything.

"Mom!" Sokka sat down in front of his mother, taking a moment to catch his breath before he exclaimed again, "Mom, guess what?!"

"What is it, sweetie?" Kya hummed, smiling at her son.

"I wrote a letter! To a friend! I think his name is Lee, but I'm not sure if he's a boy. But if he's a girl, then maybe Lee can be Katara's friend! And Hawky came back and Hawky took the letter back to the Fire Nation! And Lee is going to write back and I'm going to have a new friend!" Sokka smiled as Katara giggled at his story, pausing slightly before he remembered... "Oh, and I learned a new word!"

"What word, sweetie?"

"Fucking!"

Absolute silence. Kya stopped working on her daughter's hair--stopped humming and smiling--as she looked at her son with the upmost shock. Never in her life had she imagined--

"Phacking?" Katara, a mere three-year-old, asked. "What's it mean?"

"No, Katara. Fucking!" Sokka corrected his sister before shrugging, "I don't know. Uncle Bato said it was a grown-up word."

"Where did you hear it?" Kya somehow recovered from her shock, finding her voice. "Did Uncle Bato say it?"

"Nope!" In that moment, Hakoda walked into the igloo with a block of wood in his arms. Sokka jumped up and pointed to his father. "Dad! Dad, come here! I told mom about the grown-up word!"

The man walked into the igloo and put the wood in his arms down by a put-out fire. He then walked back to his family with a warm, fatherly smile on his face.

"What word?" he asked his son.

Katara beamed at her father as she readied her lungs just enough to loudly exclaim, "Fucking!"

"Yeah!" Sokka congratulated his sister for saying the word correctly before turning to his mother and admitting, "Dad said it!"

The chief of the village--the protector of his tribe--stood in front of his now-angry wife, sputtering as he tried to explain himself. Kya huffed and quickly finished braiding Katara's hair before she stood up.

The man still to explain himself. "Kya, my love, I swear--"

"Hakoda." Kya interrupted her husband, curtly walked out of the igloo with a scarily-calm expression on her face. "Outside. _Now_."

"...Yes, dear."

*********

When night fell, the villagers returned to their homes and started getting ready for bed. Kya warmly tucked her children into their cots, telling them to sleep well. As she turned away, she heard her daughter softly call out to her.

"Mommy, where's dad?" Katara'a voice was laced with sleep, but she tried to keep her drooping eyes open just enough to stay awake. 

Kya smiled at her daughter, tucking in a piece of hair behind the girl's ear. "He's staying with Uncle Bato for the week, sweetie."

Sokka sat up from his cot, rubbing his eyes slightly to wake himself up. "Can we go see him?" 

"Not tonight. They're really busy." The woman walked over to the indoor candles and lit them into a soft glow. "Get some sleep, alright?"

Sleepy hums of agreement sounded from her children. She watched as Sokka and Katara turned to their sides, snuggling into their warm fur blankets as they lulled themselves to sleep. She went over to her own cot--set up right next to her children--and slid into her covers. 

Sleep came to the mother and her children very easily that night. 

*********

Hakoda walked into Bato's igloo with a grim expression painted visibly on his face. His friend watched as he let himself inside, setting up a makeshift cot in the middle of the place. 

As annoyed as he was, Bato was almost amused. "What's up?"

Hakoda grumbled in sorrow. "I'm staying here for the week."

"Why?"

"Kya kicked me out."

"I ask again: why?"

"Sokka snitched."

"...About?" Bato had a sneaking suspicion, but he _really_ wanted his friend to admit it.

"Fucking." At the amused expression on his friend's face, Hakoda turned red in embarrassment and sputtered as he explained loudly, "The word! Not the... you know... _actions."_

"Sucks to be married, huh?" Bato tried so hard not to laugh. "Sucks to have kids now, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up, Bato."

"I'm gonna tell Kya that you cursed at me."

"I swear to Tui and La--"

*********

_Heylo Lee,_

_Mai nam iz ~~Su~~ ~~Zok~~ ~~Shok~~ ~~Sac~~. I am ~~fib~~ 5 yieres ald ond I am boi. If ewou ar a boi, wee kan bee phrends. _

_Ghudbai,_

_Sokka_

*********

The first thing Iroh noticed when his messenger hawk flew through his window was how calm the bird was. In the previous returns, his hawk was jumpier and agitated, as though it had been manhandled and treated poorly.

Iroh figured as much; the Fire Nation _did_ wreck havoc in any nation they visited.

But the bird was calmer--more settled down. It was as though the bird was taken care of--handled gently compared to the other visits.

Iroh could only guess that his messenger hawk had found Zocca. 

He went over and gave the bird a piece of elk jerky, reaching for the letter in its carrier as his hawk was distracted with eating. He unraveled it carefully, surprised to see Fire Nation characters printed on the papyrus instead of Southern Water Tribe characters. The shaky handwriting was an added bonus; it showed the flawed steadiness of a child's hand.

As the man read over the letter, he couldn't help but fondly smile. He tried hard not to laugh at the tiny mistakes.

The kid-- _Zocca_ \--tried his best. It was almost legible, in the very least. Iroh figured that an adult helped the child write this time, given that it wasn't very much possible for a kid to know how to write in another language.

Then again, imperialism was still a thing. Perhaps the child was smart enough to pick up two languages, just like other children in the regions the Fire Nation had invaded.

Either way, the kid wrote a letter. Whether the semantics involving the letter mattered or not, there was a letter in his hand with almost-legibly-written words. 

Iroh knew his nephew would be ecstatic. 

*********

That evening, after the Royal Family had finished supper, Iroh led his nephew into his private chambers and showed him the letter. He watched as the five-year-old's face lit up with recognition over the familiar characters on the page, but slowly dimmed into confusion as he read through the words.

"Uncle..." Zuko looked up at the man in confusion before staring back down at the letter in his hands. "Zocca made a lot of mistakes."

"He tried to write in your language, nephew," Iroh explained with slight fondness lingering in his voice. "It must have been hard for your friend."

The man watched as the boy's eyes scanned over the misspelled words on the letter. A small frown was set on the child's face; his mouth opened just barely each time he droned over a word that didn't make sense. After a while, Zuko looked up at his uncle with a determined glint in his eyes.

In a small, unsure voice, Zuko asked, "May I write to Zocca in his language?"

"Of course!" Iroh smiled at his nephew. "I'm sure your new friend would appreciate it."

The man walked to his desk, motioning for his nephew to follow him. On the desk were translation-scrolls--the same ones he used to decipher the letters from before. He sat his nephew down, explaining to him how each scroll worked and how the boy should use them. He then stood behind the child as the latter picked up a quill pen and started carefully scrawling out words on fresh papyrus. 

_And boy, did that child make mistakes..._

Iroh felt like an utter fool to judge Zocca. His nephew was way worse. 

"Uncle Iroh..." the boy called out hesitantly. "...Is Zocca's name spelled like that?"

Iroh looked over at the letter they received, following his nephew's finger as he traced over the signature at the bottom.

He nodded in Zuko direction, confirming, "I believe so, nephew." 

The man watched as the five-year-old carefully wrote his friend's name at the very top, where he intentionally left a blank space open for such. Eventually, the letter was finished (horribly, but it was still written and completed). Zuko gave his uncle the letter, asking if it was done well. Iroh didn't have it in his heart to point out the boy's mistakes. Instead, he told his nephew that Zocca would love the letter--or so he hoped.

They put the letter into the messenger hawk's carrier, sending it off into the night. They didn't realize how much time passed, but the bright moon shined just enough light for them to see the bird fly away. 

This time around, both Iroh and Zuko looked forward to the reply.

*********

_Tu Sokka,_

_Ei am boey awlsoe. Soe wie aare frendz. Ho aare yoe? Ez et kold en Zothrn Pol?_

_Phrom,_

_Lee :-)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END NOTE: With the stress going on, I hope this tiny amount of fluff can ease some tension!!
> 
> To the North American readers: I know I'm just an international student in your country, but I hope the elections go well for you all. It's truly so stressful, and I hope you all stay safe in these coming days. Please be careful!! Even I know how scary everything is, but I hope it goes as well as it can. <3


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka and Zuko send each other corrections. The adults around them grow wary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: n/a

When the hawk landed on the snow again, Hakoda was waiting with his son. Hawky immediately flew towards Sokka, having been relieved over the familiar face. The boy welcomed the bird with open arms, giggling and cooing at the creature. Hakoda smiled at the sight, not really sure how to feel over a Fire Nation bird socializing with his son.

_But as long as Sokka was happy..._

The man grabbed his coat and draped it over his son, telling him to hide the bird with it. Trying to remain as stealthy as possible, they ran into the village square--heading straight to Bato's igloo. 

Did the other tribe's members know about the hawk? Probably. There really was no real reason to hide the bird.

But did Hakoda want to answer their questions? Nope.

Even if he did want to answer their questions, the chief didn't know _how._ What would he say?

_Oh, the hawk? It's nothing! My son is just communicating with a Fire Nation boy his age! Why? Because they're best buds!_

Yeah, it wasn't going to play out so well.

When they entered Bato's igloo, Hakoda gently took the fur coat off of his son. He instructed the boy to hand over the letter (he didn't want to touch the bird himself), watching as the hawk relaxed indefinitely in Sokka's arms. The five-year-old handed Bato the letter, only to go back to playing with the bird. 

"If only your father was more like you..." Bato commented under his breath.

Hakoda quirked an eyebrow in his friend's direction. "What was that?"

"Hm?"

"You muttered something."

"Nope," Bato denied, unraveling the letter in his hands. "Just thinking about how scared you are of a bird."

"I'm not scared of a bird!"

"Then hold the hawk, chief."

"See, I would, but..." Hakoda backtracked, coughing awkwardly. "...You know, Sokka... He likes the hawk. So, yeah. I'd be a bad parent to take away the hawk from my son. Because that's bad parenting. And I'm not a bad parent. To my son. Yes."

"You're a liar, dear friend. And a bad one."

Hakoda tried to defend himself, only for Bato to gently laugh at the letter in his hands. He shook his head, carrying a fond smile on his face as he handed the letter to Hakoda. Sokka looked up at the man in confusion, watching his father as he scanned the letter. Hakoda cooed at the writing, passing the letter to his son.

Sokka took the letter, hesitantly putting the hawk down by his feet. His eyes slowly deciphered the words, growing confused the more he looked at the writing. 

"What does it say?" he asked the two men.

"Don't you recognize the writing, bud?" Bato gestured to the letter, pointing at each character used. "It's our language!"

"Lee wrote this?"

"Seems so, don't you think?"

Sokka looked at the letter with steeled eyes. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to read each word, but still...

"It doesn't make sense," the five-year-old concluded adamantly. "Lee made mistakes."

"I... well..." Hakoda looked at Bato as he tried to explain to his son, "Of course. But Lee is learning, right? Just like how you're learning? Lee just needs a little time before he knows how to write like us."

"Like Katara?" Sokka asked. "She can't spell her name yet. And I have to help her. Like that?"

"Kind of, yeah. Like that."

Sokka looked at the letter again, reading over each word carefully. The two men looked at him, watching him for what seemed like hours (it had barely been a few minutes). Even the hawk by the child's feet had grown bored--taking a nap right where he was placed. Eventually, Sokka looked up at his father and smiled.

"I have a plan!" Sokka announced eagerly.

"Oh?" Hakoda laughed in fatherly pride. "And what would that be?"

"I'm gonna help Lee learn!"

*********

The two men left Sokka with the translation-scrolls, going outside and guarding the igloo from any onlookers. They knew the tribe's members would be curious, but they couldn't afford to raise so many alarms just yet. For now, they had to be careful. 

They sat on the snow, just near the entrance of the igloo. The two men fell into a comfortable silence for the first ten minutes before boredom kicked in. As time progressed, they become increasingly restless. It wasn't until Bato accidentally (or so he claimed) flicked a bit of snow at Hakoda's face that they both knew what to do.

_Secret snow fight._

They watched for any tribe's members, making sure no one saw. Once they were in the clear, they quickly tossed snow in each other's faces. It was supposed to be a fun little game. No one was hurt. But as an hour passed since they first stepped outside...

"I _can_ and _will_ obliterate your kneecaps, Bato."

"I'd say the same if your knees weren't already messed up from old age."

"We are the _same age._ "

"Maybe, but mentally I'm decades younger than you. That's why I vibe with your son so well."

"Please never say 'vibe' ever again. Not even the teenagers in our village degrade themselves like that."

"Are you saying I'm a teenager, 'Koda?"

"No, I'm saying you're _really old_ and you shouldn't be using slang at your age."

"So, since we're the same age, you're also _really old,_ huh? Are you finally going to admit that, old man? Are you, grandpa?"

"Fuck off, Bato."

"I'm telling Kya that you used a bad word."

Hakoda effective-immediately threw a large chunk of snow at his friend's face. He even went so far as to scooping some off the ground and grabbing the back of Bato's shirt, letting it fall down the man's back slowly and torturously.

_Fun times. What else are best friends supposed to do?_

In the midst of Bato trying to muffle his screams--trying to warm his back--Sokka came out of the igloo with the hawk. The bird fluttered its wings enthusiastically, getting ready to fly. Hakoda ignored Bato as he led his son to the edge of the snow, wrapping a fur coat around him once again. The two headed to the same place the bird landed, and Sokka immediately let the hawk out of his arms when prompted to.

They watched as the bird flew away. Sokka waved goodbye, wishing Hawky a safe journey. Hakoda watched his son proudly, yet not really knowing what caused his sense of pride. He wondered if Lee's father felt the same way, seeing his son communicate in another language. Did the Fire Nation boy's father help him write those letters? 

Bato mentioned that Lee's uncle wrote for the boy in the beginning. Did the boy even have a father? Was he well-loved by his family regardless?

As Hakoda wondered about Lee, Bato rushed over to the two in long strides. As he came closer, he slowed down just enough to start catching his breath. Hakoda looked at the other man in confusion. 

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"T-The... The..." Bato huffed, concern written all over his face. "I... L-Letter..."

"What's wrong, Uncle Bato?" Sokka asked, turning towards Bato in wonder.

When the other man finally caught his breath, he turned to the chief and told him, "I can't find the original letter. I think... I think someone took it."

"The one that was sent to us?" Hakoda clarified. "Why would anyone take it?"

"I don't know."

"What letter?" Sokka chimed in.

"The letter we gave to you, remember?" Bato explained. "Did you give it to anyone, bud?"

The five-year-old shook his head, pointing to the sky. "I sent it back with Hawky!"

"Oh..." Bato slowly nodded while processing that bit of information. "Why did you do that, bud?"

"So he can learn!"

A dread filled both Bato and Hakoda's stomachs. They looked at each other in fear before turning to the child and asking what he meant.

"I wanted to teach Lee how to write," Sokka explained with a bright smile. "I sent the letter back, and then I wrote the right words on another paper! And then I wrote back on another paper!"

"So, you sent..." Hakoda steadied his shaky voice. "Y-You sent... corrections?"

"What's that?"

"Did you tell Lee that he wrote the words wrong?"

"Yup!"

_Oh, boy._

_Oh dear._

_May Tui and La bless them--_

Images flashed both of the men's minds--of a little Fire Nation boy sitting on the ground with the corrected letter. Crying, probably, at the mistakes that were discovered. Who would find that crying boy? Probably the boy's uncle. What happens when the Fire Nation was upset?

Revenge. Raids. Pillages. War.

_Fuck._

They were sure that Sokka had good intentions. That boy was nothing but a pure soul (albeit, he did have his moments--). But the Fire Nation wouldn't notice that. They would see mockery, most likely. If not mockery, then they would see it as a lack of assimilation to their culture.

Dread filled their guts. Hakoda and Bato watched the sky, wishing that the hawk came back. 

_If only they checked the carrier beforehand..._

*********

_Tu Sokka,_

_Ei am boey awlsoe. Soe wie aare frendz. Ho aare yoe? Ez et kold en Zothrn Pol?_

_Phrom,_

_Lee :-)_

_To Sokka,_

_I am boy also. So we are ~~freids~~ ~~fiernds~~ friends. How are you? Is it ~~colde~~ ~~codl~~ cold in ~~Shotrn~~ ~~Shouthrn~~ Southern Pole?_

_From,_

_Lee :-D_

_Heylo Lee,_

_~~Es~~ Is ckold in ~~sotrn~~ Sotrn Whatr Treyeb, ~~put~~ but I weared ~~coates~~ koates so knot ckold to ~~munche~~ muche. Is ~~pire~~ Phire Natione hoat?_

_Ghudbai,_

_Sokka_

*********

When Iroh got his hawk back, he was surprised to find-- _not one_ \--but three letters stuffed into its carrier. He unraveled them all, looking them over as he arranged each letter. The first one was the one that Zuko sent. The second one seemed to be a corrected version of the letter. The third one was a response to the first letter. 

_Interesting_ _..._

Iroh waited for the sun to set, placing the letters on his desk and locking his chambers. He joined the Royal Family for dinner, going about his day beforehand. When the evening ended, he whisked his nephew away, leading the boy down the hallway and to his private room.

The general quickly led the five-year-old inside, closing and locking the door behind him. He looked around the room, taking note that nothing had been set array. When he was certain that no one was in his room since the time he left, Iroh sighed in relief and led his nephew to his desk. He gave the boy the three letters, explaining each of them as the child looked them over.

Some part of him expected a tantrum. He didn't know why, but he didn't want to be unprepared (just in case).

After a while, Zuko looked up at him and asked in an eager voice, "May I write to Zocca, uncle? Please?"

"Of course, nephew!" It threw Iroh off, but he selectively chose not to let it show. "...May I ask you a question?"

Zuko hummed in acknowledgement, already sitting by Iroh's desk with translation-scrolls. 

He had to word his question carefully. "...Are you... _angered_... by Zocca's letter?"

His nephew looked up at him in confusion. "Why?"

"He corrected you," Iroh explained, a bit confused. When the boy in front of him didn't show any sign that he understood, Iroh added, "Your father would be very displeased."

It was true. Ozai wouldn't just be displeased; he would be furious. How dare a commoner correct the words of a noble? This was Ozai's child, wasn't it? Wouldn't Azula act the same way--a mere embodiment of her father? 

_But no..._

"No, I'm happy!" The five-year-old turned back to the letters, seemingly studying them. "Maybe Zocca didn't understand me. So I have to write better for him!"

This wasn't just Prince Ozai's son. Zuko was also Princess Ursa's son.

Ursa would have been delighted, wouldn't she?

_Of course..._

Prince Zuko took after his mother, even if he wanted to be like his father. Relief bubbled in Iroh's mind, and for a second, he thought the relief came from not having to deal with a tantrum. No, there was something deeper. Something warmer.

The relief came from a sense of understanding. The boy was raised well, and he hoped the boy's sister was raised just the same. 

"The letter was signed again!" Zuko interrupted Iroh's mid-thought of relief by shoving a letter in his face. "In Zocca's language!"

The general took the letter, looking at the Southern Water Tribe characters at the bottom. "I see."

"Does Zocca know how to write his name? In my language?"

"I'm not so sure, nephew."

"Then maybe I can write Zocca's name..."

The child trailed off, carefully writing his friend's name in Fire Nation characters. Iroh watched intently, patiently waiting behind his nephew. He found it quite clever that the Water Tribe boy sent back a corrected version of the letter. Perhaps it would be useful. The Fire Nation translation-scrolls for the Southern Water Tribe language weren't updated. It would be great to use the corrected versions of the letters to fix translations. 

Eventually, the letters were written. Iroh helped Zuko put the two letters he had written into the hawk's carrier, as well as the letter Zocca had sent. They sent the messenger bird away in the dead of night, watching the moonlight tail its path. 

Perhaps Zocca would indeed be a good friend for his nephew. 

*********

_Heylo Lee,_

_~~Es~~ Is ckold in ~~sotrn~~ Sotrn Whatr Treyeb, ~~put~~ but I weared ~~coates~~ koates so knot ckold to ~~munche~~ muche. Is ~~pire~~ Phire Natione hoat?_

_Ghudbai,_

_Sokka_

_Hello Lee,_

_It ~~iz~~ is cold in ~~Zouthn~~ Southern Water ~~Tibe~~ Tribe, but I wear ~~koats~~ ~~ckots~~ coats ~~zo~~ so not cold too ~~mich~~ much. Is Fire Nation ~~hat~~ hot?_

_~~Gudbye~~ Goodbye,_

_Zocca_

_~~Tu~~ To Zocca,_

_Fur knation knot ~~tuu~~ too ~~hawt~~ hat. ~~Heer~~ Hear, weair thine clouths ~~soh~~ soe knot feal hieet. ~~Waht~~ Wat dow ckotes luk lik? _

_From,_

_Lee :-)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Apologizes for not updating this story in so long!! I've been dealing with some personal matters for the time being, and it turns out that some things need to be resolved. For that matter, I'll be taking a small break from this fic (I believe this one and one more) until further notice. Sorry for being vague about the reasoning, but I'll be sure to update as soon as I can!!
> 
> As of now, my intended guess is that the break will be until March 2021. I deeply apologize, but please know that I have not abandoned this story!! Will be back soon enough!! Take care everyone, and please stay healthy!! <3


End file.
